Whouffaldi Week 2016
by TaleasOldasTimeandSpace
Summary: A collection of oneshots based on the Whouffaldi week prompts
1. Of Blanket Forts

**The Doctor tries to protect Clara from a vicious beast. Clara is not amused.**

 _ **Whouffaldi Week 2016 challenge day one: 'not what it looks like', orange peels, bed covers.**_

* * *

Clara hadn't been so happy to see her flat door in a long time. It had been a rough day at the school and all she wanted to do was take a long, hot bath, which would be followed by comfy pajamas and eating unhealthy takeaway on her couch while watching mindless telly. She'd never been so grateful that it wasn't a Wednesday and that the Doctor wouldn't be there. She loved the daft old man, but he was absolutely _not_ a restful person.

And yet, she wasn't surprised at all to open her door to find a blanket fort in the middle of her living room, a blue box winking evilly at her through her open bedroom door. Suspended from the ceiling were orange peels, like an entire nation of goldfish had committed mass suicide by hanging themselves with her sewing thread. She groaned and buried her face in her hand. 'Doctor. _Whyyyy?'_ she moaned plaintively.

A floofy silver head poked out of the fort. 'Clara! This isn't what it looks like!'

'Seriously? You're gonna try to tell me that? Because it _looks_ like you suddenly decided to regress a couple of thousand years to your childhood in the middle of my living room.'

He frowned, eyes darting around the living room and eyebrows twitching owlishly. 'What? Why would you say that? I know I look younger than you, but even I know I couldn't pass for a kid.'

'Dooctoooor!' She slid down her door, landing in a dejected heap on the floor. 'I just want to take a bath and watch the telly. _Why_ are you building blanket forts in my living room?'

He blinked. 'It's not a blanket fort.'

She raised an eyebrow. 'You don't say.' She looked deliberately at the blankets suspended from her couch, chairs, and bookshelves. 'Then what would _you_ call it?' She frowned at the ceiling. 'And what's with the orange peels, anyway?'

'There's no time for explanations!' He dove out of the fort and grabbed her hands, hauling her to her feet and pulling her behind him back into the fort. 'It's not safe!'

'What are you on about?' she meant to ask, but landed face first in one of her couch cushions, so it came out as incoherent groaning. She debated briefly just staying there. Sure, she'd probably suffocate, but that almost sounded preferable to whatever kick the Doctor was on now. She did not have the _energy_ to deal with him right now.

However, she reluctantly decided suffocation was the coward's way out and lifted her face from the cushion. 'Doctor. You. Will. Tell. Me. What. Is. Going. On. Right. Now. Or. I. Will. Smack. You. So. Hard. Your. Eyebrows. Will. Fall. Off.'

'Clara, I'm sorry I have to tell you this, but your flat has been invaded.'

'I know.'

'It's a malicious beast probably bent on global domination. Or destruction. Possibly both. What do you _mean_ you know?' As he spoke, he gestured wildly with his hands.

She glared at him. 'My flat is invaded on a weekly basis by a daft old man who has no concept that the rest of the universe needs thing like peace and quiet and regular bedtimes.'

He squinted at her, hands clutched in front of his chest and elbows sticking out like the wings of a plucked chicken. 'Is that sarcasm? Your face is doing that squashy thing when you're upset, but your eyes aren't inflating like they do when you're going to cry. Or laugh. Or sneeze. Honestly Clara, you need more expressions. It makes it hard to tell what you're feeling when you do the same thing with your eyes all the time.'

She pinched her temples with one hand. 'Doctor. Why do you think my flat's been invaded?'

'I saw the creature myself! I think it's a Nir'cha from the planet Kwam. They're vicious beasts, repelled only by thuumas fruit and cloth woven from ha'kaw plants. Oranges and your cotton bed covers were the best I could do on short notice, but it seems to be working.' He looked ridiculously pleased with himself, watching for her reaction with a wide smile on his face.

'Nir'cha from the planet Kwam, eh?' She sighed. Obviously she wouldn't be getting that bath tonight. 'What'd it look like?' she asked resignedly.

'Well, it looked- like that!' His voice rose – not quite a shriek, but nudging toward the higher decibels – as he pointed with one hand at a small black creature poking its nose through the blankets while simultaneously trying to pull Clara behind him with the other.

She managed to get a look at it over his shoulder and collapsed onto his back, laughing helplessly. He wasn't prepared for her weight, and they landed in a messy pile on the floor.

'Clara! Clara, get off! We have to get to the TARDIS, it's breached our defenses! Clara, stop laughing! This is serious!'

She dodged a bony elbow. 'Doctor, that's my cat!'

'Clara, run while you can I'll hold it off!' he stopped flailing. 'Your cat?'

'My cat.' She crawled over him and scooped up the tiny creature. 'Doctor, meet Plagg.' She grinned mischievously. 'He's _my_ companion.' She started scratching the kitten behind the ears. 'He might dream of global domination, but he's too lazy to do anything about it. The only thing he truly craves is cheese,' she added over his purrs.

The Doctor glared at Plagg, who stared back through smug green eyes. 'Why would you want a cat? They're selfish, needy, attention hogs.'

She reached out and bopped his nose. 'Are you saying you're a cat, Doctor?' She laughed as he spluttered indignantly. She wondered wickedly if he would purr if she scratched behind _his_ ears, and made a mental note to try it later. 'So,' she started as she made herself more comfortable against the cushions. 'Why are you here, anyway?' Now that the crisis had been averted, she had to admit that the blanket fort was actually rather cozy.

'I had a planet I wanted to show you, where they can paint memories and-Why are you shaking your head?'

'No planets tonight, Doctor. I'm too tired, and besides – it's not even Wednesday.'

'Oh.' He seemed to shrink into himself. 'Do you want me to leave, then?'

'Only if it's to get marshmallows from the kitchen.'

'What?'

'Oh, and chocolate. And graham crackers.'

He looked like a bewildered owl. 'Why?'

'Well, you've gone to all this effort; it'd be a shame to let such a well-built blanket fort go to waste. But if we're going to stay in here, we need snacks. Like s'mores. Do your sunglasses have a setting for toasted marshmallow?'

When he returned with the supplies, she sighed contentedly and rested her head on his shoulder. This was nice. And maybe the Doctor could be a restful person after all. 'Doctor?'

'Yes Clara?' he replied absently as he concentrated on toasting marshmallows with his glasses ( _burning them with the sheer power of his angry eyebrows,_ Clara thought a little foggily).

'Thank you for saving me from being murdered in my sleep by my cat.'

'…You're welcome.' He raised the arm she was leaning against and wrapped it delicately around her shoulders. Clara had a fuzzy picture of them as Russian nesting dolls of cuddling - she holding Plagg, the Doctor holding her - and she decided that this was the perfect way to spend her evening after all.

* * *

 **My first foray into prompt challenges. Sorry it's late; I didn't get inspired until this afternoon. I'm not sure how many I'll do, but I have ideas for at least a couple more. Jammy Dodger if you can spot the Miraculous Ladybug reference.**


	2. Shall We Dance

**Clara and the Doctor trip the light fantastic. Nothing gets broken.**

 _ **Day Three - [March 23]: 'move over', a classroom, vinyl records.**_

* * *

'Move over, I can't see!' Katie elbowed Courtney in the ribs as she attempted to get a better view through the classroom door.

Courtney grunted, but shifted slightly. 'This was _my_ idea, remember?'

'Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Hush! They've started again!'

The two girls attempted to be as quiet as possible as they stuck their heads through the half-open door. Inside the classroom, music played while a couple danced within a ring of desks. The music was _old_ – probably the kind of stuff their parents listened to, if not older. It was coming from a record player – a _record player!_ Who used record players when you could have any song you wanted on your _phone_ , for crying out loud?! – which sat on one of the desks. Like the music, the way the couple was dancing was like something out of an old movie, with lots of spins and dips.

The strangest part of it all was the couple themselves, though. The woman was their English teacher, Ozzie – Miss Oswald, to her face – and she was dancing with the _caretaker_ of all people. It was amazing that the grouchy old man who seemed to hate everybody even knew _how_ to dance.

Ozzie seemed to share that opinion. 'Where'd you learn how to do this, anyway?' she asked with a laugh as the caretaker dipped her. 'Last time I saw you dance, it was awful. You looked like a drunk giraffe.'

He made an odd noise that was halfway between an annoyed grunt and a laugh. 'Don't remind me. Bowtie had absolutely no sense of rhythm. But obviously I came out alright this time around.' He twirled her out and back for emphasis. 'I'll have you know I danced with Ginger Rodgers. I even showed Fred Astaire a couple of steps.'

'And that reminds me – why exactly are we doing this here? When I said I wanted to go dancing, Astaire and Rodgers was more along the lines of what I had in mind. Not my classroom five minutes before school starts.'

'Nah. This is better. They hadn't invented colour yet, so everything would've been in black and white.'

'Don't try to give me that, Doctor! Besides,' she shot a pointed look at his outfit and smirked, 'how would you be able to tell the difference, anyway? You _always_ look like you're in black and white.'

'True.' He spun her under his arm and dipped her again. 'But _you're_ always in Technicolor, so believe me, I would notice.'

The music kept playing, but they seemed to be frozen, staring at each other.

Katie put her hands over her mouth to stifle her squealing. Courtney glared at her, pulling her down the hallway before she could betray their presence. They ducked into another empty classroom, and Katie began flailing her hands and shrieking excitedly. 'Oh my _goodness,_ that was so- I can't even! And he was- The way she _looked_ at him! When he dipped her, though!'

Courtney flopped into one of the desks and smirked at her friend. 'See? I _told_ you they were a thing.'

'Oh, oh, _oh!_ Courtney! Do you think they _kissed?'_

'We'll never know, will we? Since _somebody_ couldn't hold it together.'

'I'm _sorry!_ But they were adorable - it was like watching a movie. I couldn't help it!' Katie clasped her hands under her chin and stared dreamily into space.

Courtney shook her head and pulled out her phone, eyes widening when she saw the time. 'Shoot! Katie, we gotta get to class!' Katie kept staring, humming the tune that had been playing while Ozzie and the Doctor danced. Courtney rolled her eyes and grabbed her friend's arm. 'Come _on!'_

The threw themselves out of the classroom, running straight into the Doctor. He caught them both before they could go crashing to the floor. 'Careful! You pudding brains are so fragile. Especially the young ones!'

'Thanks!' Courtney called over her shoulder as she dragged Katie to class.

 _'Courtney!_ Did you _see-'_

'No time!'

'But-'

 _'Later!'_

They dove into their class, startling Ozzie, who was sitting at her desk. 'Courtney! Katie! Try to have a little more decorum, yeah?' She returned to reapplying her lipstick.

Courtney frowned. Wait a minute…

Katie elbowed her. 'That's what I was trying to _tell_ you,' she hissed. 'The Doctor had Ozzie's lipstick _all_ over his _face!'_

The two girls stared at each other, then at their teacher, who was calmly writing on the whiteboard. She caught them looking and winked, blushing a little. Slowly, they met each other's eyes again. They burst into hysterical giggles. After a minute, Ozzie joined them. The look of confusing on the faces of the rest of the students coming in just made all three of them laugh harder.

Class started a little late that morning.

* * *

 **Yes, I skipped a day. Sorry; I just wasn't feeling yesterday's prompt. But her, have some gratuitous fluff instead.**

 **Based in part on my headcanon that Twelve is actually a good dancer. It's about time.**

 **They're dancing to something from the 40s, like Benny Goodman or Duke Ellington or whatnot. Pick your favourite big band tune.**

 **I like to think that Courtney made friends in her class after Kill the Moon.**


	3. Frost Fair

**The Doctor takes Clara to the Last Frost Fair. To make up for, y'know, breaking up with her and then nearly getting eaten by dream crabs.**

 _ **Day Four - [March 24]: 'make a wish', winter, fairy lights.**_

* * *

Their first stop after running away that Christmas night was the last Frost Fair of 1814. When the Doctor told her where they were going, she squealed and threw her arms around him before running off to change out of her nightgown. She couldn't wait to find the perfect outfit for the occasion.

She was thoughtful when she got back, sidling up to the Doctor as he worked the controls. 'Doctor?' He hummed in response, fingers dancing over switches and buttons. 'Why the Frost Fair? I'd think you'd had enough of Christmassy things after, well, everything.'

'Pft. You call _that_ Christmas? Just because there was a fatty in a red suit? Anyway, we dreamed the whole thing, so it doesn't even count, really. Besides…' he fiddled absently with a lever, and Clara realized he looked _nervous_. 'I thought you'd like it. Snow, Jane Austen, maybe some ice skating. But if you'd rather do something else…' he trailed off uncertainly.

'No! Of course not! I can't wait. It's something I've always wanted to do, and I was so sad when my mom explained why they don't happen anymore.'

'Well in that case-' He set the parking break with a flourish, grabbed her hand, and together they ran for the door. Just before he opened it, she paused.

'Wait, Doctor – how do I look?' She grinned and twirled, showing off her dark blue outfit, complete with matching bonnet.

He studied her for a long minute. Just when she was starting to shift uncomfortably, his entire face softened and split into a wide smile. 'Perfect. You always look nice in a bonnet.' He reached out and gently tweaked her ribbons. 'They suit you.' He threw open the door and ducked outside. She stared after him, frozen in shock. She'd expected a comment on the roundness of her face, or maybe something about how she looked like a short, round TARDIS. She'd never expected a compliment. Not from the Doctor, of all people. The Doctor didn't do compliments, not anymore, and especially not on her appearance. She wasn't entirely sure what to make of this new…understanding between them, but she rather liked it. He turned when he realized she wasn't following and waved. 'Well, come on then. The Thames will melt before we see anything at this rate!'

Aaand that was more like it. Laughing, she ran to catch up with him and tentatively slipped her arm through his. He didn't even flinch, just adjusted his arm so that she could hold on more comfortably.

They spent the day wandering the Fair, looking at trinkets in the booths, eating roasted chestnuts and meat pies, and watching jugglers and musicians perform their acts. They went ice skating, twirling around each other until the Doctor lost his balance and went flying into a snowdrift. Clara was laughing so hard that she could barely pull him out.

Later, they were walking through the booths eating gingerbread as the sun was setting and lamps were beginning to be lit, when suddenly the Doctor stiffened. Clara was about to ask him what was wrong, but he pulled her behind a booth before she could open her mouth. 'Doctor? What's going on?' she whispered as he peered around the booth.

He glanced over his shoulder at her. 'Um. I may have just seen myself,' he replied sheepishly.

'What? Where?' She poked her head around the booth as well. 'Which one?'

'First. Over by the puppet show.'

She looked where he indicated, and sure enough, there was the original Doctor, in all his crotchety glory. She didn't recognize the people with him, but she assumed they were his current companions. She grinned up at her Doctor. 'You know, I think you were even more grouchy then than you are now.' She poked him gently. 'You've mellowed in your old age.'

He started to bluster, but she was distracted by the music coming from the tent behind which they hid. It was familiar, and it had no business whatsoever being at the Frost Fair of 1814. She frowned. 'Is that…Isn't She Lovely?' His eyebrows started to twitch uncontrollably. 'It is!' She raised her own eyebrow at him. 'Doctor, why is a Stevie Wonder song playing at the frost fair in 1814?'

He swallowed. 'That's not a Stevie Wonder song.'

'I think I can tell when I hear a Stevie Wonder song, Doctor.'

'No. That's Stevie Wonder.' She stared at him. 'I brought River here for her birthday one year. Stevie Wonder provided the music.'

'Just how many times have you been to this particular fair?'

'Too many, obviously. Let's get back to the TARDIS before I have an identity crisis.' He grabbed her hand and they began weaving through the crowd. They were almost clear when Clara bumped into a tall man in a long brown coat. He reached out to steady her as she bounced off him.

'Sorry!' she said. And blinked when she caught sight of his face.

'Oh, not to worry!' he replied cheerfully. 'Happens all the time!' He gallantly placed a kiss on the back of her hand, and she caught sight of the Doctor – well, _her_ Doctor – glaring at him from behind.

'Well, thank you. Got to run!' She eased around the Doctor – she recognized him as the Tenth, or was he technically the Eleventh? She was never sure how to count them after the War Doctor - to catch up with the Doctor. this was getting too confusing, even for her. And she'd seen all of them!

The Doctor in the coat – stick with Ten, that was easier - was frowning. 'You look familiar. Have we-'

'Doctor!' An Asian woman in a scarf and a beanie ran up to him. 'We have to go now, remember?'

'Oh, right, you're right! Nice bumping into you!' he called over his shoulder as they ran off.

Clara met her Doctor's eye. 'You are _never_ coming to this frost fair again.'

'I think that's probably a good idea.' He held out his hand. 'So, TARDIS?'

She took it. 'TARDIS.'

They ran back to the TARDIS, holding hands and laughing like a couple of teenagers. When they reached the police box they paused, leaning back against the doors and looking back over the frost fair. The lamps and torches twinkled in the dark like fairy lights, mirrored by the stars winking overhead. 'Doctor, look!' Clara pointed up as a shooting star burst across the sky. 'Quick, make a wish!'

He snorted. 'Clara, wishing on stars is illogical. A meteorite burning up in the upper atmosphere has no power to grant wishes.'

'Doctor!' She rolled her eyes and bumped his arm with her shoulder. 'Come on. Make a wish. It's a venerable earth tradition. We can both do it.' She made a show of closing her eyes and wishing. When she opened them, it was to find the Doctor watching her. 'What? Why are you looking at me like that? Did you make a wish?'

He shook his head. 'I don't need to.' He smiled, lifting a hand to gently cup her cheek. 'It already came true.' Slowly, carefully, he bent his head, watching her reaction, giving her ample opportunity to pull away. Instead, she smiled and lifted up on her toes, meeting him halfway. She wrapped her arms around his neck while his arms slipped around her waist, hands spanning her back. Kissing the Doctor was nothing like she'd expected and everything she'd hoped. She could see constellations behind her eyelids, but at the same time she was firmly anchored in reality by the feel of his lips on hers.

They separated as slowly as they'd come together, their eyes tracing the other's face in wonder. 'What about you?' he asked softly. 'Do you think your wish will come true?'

She grinned. 'It just did,' she said and pulled his head down again.

* * *

 **Man, these things keep getting longer. And fluffier. Help!**

 **The Doctor has been to this particular Frost Fair four times - First, Tenth, Eleventh, and even Twelve and Clara. At least according to the TARDIS wiki. The man needs to STAHP! The fair lasted for four days, so he probably went on different days, but I thought would be funnier if they were all there at the same time. 'Cause I'm evil :D At least Two went to one in the 1600s. He's the only smart one of the bunch, apparently.**

 **This is my first attempt at writing a kiss. *blush***


	4. Force Feeding part 1

**Clara gets back from a spa day to find that the Doctor and the twins have had an...interesting time.**

 _ **Day Five - [March 25]: 'i regret nothing', baby food, birds.**_

* * *

Clara waved as the diner disappeared before turning to the blue police box parked on the other side of the hanger. She loved the Doctor and the kids, but it was always nice to have Girls' Day with Me and Jane. They'd found out when they first started meeting for Girls' Day that Jane and Me had met before, though Me didn't remember. That didn't stop them from being friends now, and Me was usually the one to pick Jane up from the Nineteenth Century. Clara suspected it was mostly because she loved flying her TARDIS and looked for any excuse to make a trip.

This time around they'd gone to a spa on the planet Midnight, and she couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so relaxed. They'd talked about what was new with their lives – Jane was working on a new book (Clara was pretty sure it was Persuasion), Me had helped stage an uprising on the planet Ithmari, and Clara shared some of the more dramatic adventures of traveling with the Doctor and the twins. She giggled again at the memory of the look on the Doctor's face when she suggested he take the twins on one of the planet tours. It sounded like something he would love, but instead his eyebrows twitched uncontrollably and he looked more like an owl than ever. He muttered something about annoying tourists and pulled the twins back into the TARDIS, insisting that they would be able to find something else to keep themselves amused.

She let herself into the TARDIS, closing the door and leaning against it with a happy sigh. It was good to be home.

That feeling lasted the approximately 4.8 seconds it took her to register the state of the console room, and by then it was too late to run back and see if she could catch Me and Jane before they left – which really wouldn't work since she just watched them dematerialize, but she felt she could be forgiven for not thinking rationally at the moment. Instead, she squared her shoulders and raised her chin. She was the Impossible Girl, the Companion and Wife of the Doctor, and the Mother of the Hybrid. More importantly, she was a _schoolteacher._ She didn't do intimidated. She did _boss._

She picked her was carefully across the floor. There was baby food _everywhere_ – on the floor, the walls, the console, even the ceiling. She winced and patted the railing sympathetically. The TARDIS couldn't be happy about this. Cooing drew her attention to the balcony railing, where a row of seventeen pigeons, eight blackbirds, four sparrows, two owls – one of which looked _just_ like the Doctor - and an albatross perched, watching her. It gave her uncomfortable flashbacks to watching the Birds as a little girl, not to mention dying at the hands – well, claws – of a raven-like creature. Not the sort of thing that encourages warm fluffy feelings for birds, that's for sure.

She caught sight of a pair of boots attached to long legs covered in plaid trousers sticking out from under the console. She couldn't help laughing at the sight of her space husband, unconscious on the floor of the TARDIS, with Rey and Leo sprawled on top of his snoring chest. All three were as covered in baby food as their surroundings, but they had matching expressions of peaceful contentment on their faces. Clara felt her heart swell at the sight of them. It was something she'd all but given up hope on, and she was grateful every day for her impossible family. A wave of fierce love swept over her, and she shook her head fondly. They looked so adorable she almost hated to wake them. But the TARDIS wasn't going to clean herself – well, she probably _could_ , but how would anyone learn anything then? – and Clara _wasn't_ going to be the one on clean-up duty.

Assuming her Stern Teacher face, she nudged the Doctor gently in the ribs with her toe. He grunted and squirmed away, arms tightening around Rey and Leo. She poked him again, and he mumbled 'Come on, kids. We need to clean up before Mummy comes home.'

'I'd be interested in watching that.'

His eyes shot open, darting wildly around the disaster area formerly known as the console room before landing on Clara, standing over him with her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. 'Clara!' he squawked. He sat up in a rush, but obviously he didn't remember where he was, because he banged his head on the underside of the console and flopped back to the floor with a pained groan. The sudden movement woke the twins, who each cracked an eye open and looked at each other across their father's chest. Clara was pretty sure they were holding a telepathic conversation, because after a minute they both began to howl. In harmony. Her kids were pretty amazing.

'Oh come here, you two. You're all right.' She scooped up the wailing hybrids and cuddled them to her chest. Their sobs tapered off almost instantly as they snuggled in her arms. 'There you go. It's not so bad, is it? No it isn't.' She turned her attention to the Doctor, who was using the console to pull himself to his feet. 'So. Do I even want to know?'

'Oh. Well. There's really not that much to tell.' He attempted to casually fluff his hair, but pulled his hands away in disgust when they encountered baby food.

Clara bit her lip, kissing first Rey's dark hair and then Leo's curly head to hide her grin. 'Isn't there?'

'Really!' He clasped his hands in front of his chest, elbows sticking out, the way he did when he was nervous. 'We were just having lunch. Leo was a little fussy, which upset Rey – you know how she is.' Clara nodded. Rey was exactly twelve minutes older than Leo, and very protective. Anything that bothered Leo bothered Rey, and she wouldn't be happy until he was okay again.

'I'm with you so far.'

'So neither one of them wanted to eat, and both of them were getting more and more worked up, so I...used the Force.'

'You what?'

'I used the Force to levitate the baby food. It worked, too!' He started flapping his hands like an excited owl. The birds on the railing rustled sympathetically. 'The both stopped fussing and watched the spoon. Leo started giggling, which made Rey laugh, too. And Clara! _Rey took the spoon!'_

She blinked. 'That's….good?'

'No, not with her hand – with the Force! She took the spoon and made it fly around the console room!'

She desperately wanted to cross her arms, but they were full of her hybrid children, so she settled for raising her eyebrows. 'You're trying to tell me Rey made this entire mess by levitating a spoonful of baby food?'

'Ah. No. Not exactly.' He lifted one shoulder. 'Leo liked what Rey was doing, so he grabbed the spoon. They kind of….fought….over it, and it, uh,' he trailed off into incoherent mumbling.

'Sorry, what?'

'ithitmerightintheface.'

'What?'

 _'_ _It hit me right in the face!'_

She stared at him. Now that he'd mentioned it, she could see dried baby food on his nose. She burst out laughing.

He glared at her. 'I'm glad you think it's funny.'

'Okay, so they attacked you with' _snicker_ 'baby food. What did you do, dump it all over them?'

He drew himself up, offended. 'What kind of dad do you think I am?'

She cast a pointed look around the console room before returning her gaze to him.

He grunted. 'Yes. Well. _No,_ I _didn't_ dump baby food all over our children. But they both thought it was so funny that they started attacking me, so I had to defend myself, and it, uh, went downhill from there.'

'Three-way food fight?'

He hung his head. 'Three-way food fight,' he agreed sheepishly.

One of the owls hooted, reminding her of their avian audience. 'And the birds?'

'One of the twins – I think it was Leo – called about half of them in. For aerial support, of course.'

'Of course.'

'And then Rey called in more, to combat her brother's squadron.'

'Naturally.'

'So I sent out my own call. And got the albatross.'

'That sounds about right.'

He spread his hands. 'Between the birds carrying baby food bombs and Force attacks, we got carried away.'

'That's one way of putting it.' She laughed and leaned up to kiss him. Since her arms were full of sleepy hybrids and she couldn't pull him down like she normally did, he obligingly bent to meet her. 'I'm glad you had fun today,' she murmured against his lips. She felt him smile, and added, 'Now I'm going to give the twins a bath and put them to bed. You can clean up the console room.'

He pulled back, pouting. 'But Clara-'

She shook her head. 'No buts. It's the least you can do for the TARDIS, after you got her into this state to begin with.' The TARDIS hummed in agreement. Clara chuckled. 'See?' She started down the corridor to the bathroom. 'Get your feathered friends to help you,' she called over her shoulder.

* * *

The Doctor surveyed the console room, head cocked to the side. The owl hooted again, and he met the bird's eye. 'Let's see. Made a mess. Made a really big mess. Played with my children. Discovered they're Force-sensitive.' He smiled widely, showing off his teeth.

'I regret nothing.'

* * *

 **Happy Hybrid Day!**

 **With a prompt like that, of course we of the wastebasket would go nuts. Welcome the newest member of our happy Hybrid Family, Rey! Because that girl deserves a family, and what better family than Clara Twelve and Leo?**


	5. Force Feeding part 2

**The War of the Hybrids breaks out in the TARDIS**

* * *

The Doctor waved at Clara as she headed toward the spa before shutting the door and carrying the twins through the TARDIS. 'Well kids, what should we do while Mummy's having Girls' Day?'

Rey gurgled.

'I know the tour sounded like fun, but trust me – it's false advertising. Absolutely worst trip of my life, _including_ the time your mother sent me for coffee in Glasgow and I ended up getting kidnapped by pirates and chosen to become their new captain.'

Leo chirped inquiringly.

'No, I don't know why there were pirates in Glasgow. It's nowhere near the ocean, and you'd think they'd have trouble getting a pirate ship up the River Clyde without being seen.' Rey cooed, and he shrugged, bouncing the twins until they giggled. 'Well, don't tell your mum, but I don't actually know. They, ah, knocked me out, and I didn't wake up until we were already at sea.' The twins blinked at him in hybrid judgement, and he raised a bushy eyebrow. 'I'd like to see either of _you_ do better in a kidnapping situation.' He thought about it for a minute. 'Actually no, I wouldn't. Neither one of you are ever allowed to be kidnapped. I forbid it. Now. We're not going on the tour, and nobody's getting kidnapped. What do you want to do instead?'

Leo babbled a suggestion, which the Doctor considered gravely.

'Well, it's a little early for lunch, but I suppose it couldn't hurt. To the kitchen!' He ran down the corridor, the twins tucked under his arms while he made TARDIS noises. Rey and Leo loved it when he played TARIDS with them. In the kitchen, he settled the hybrids in their matching highchairs and began rooting through the cupboards, examining their options. 'So kids, what do you think? We've got Mixed Carrots, Green Beans, Pear Zucchini Corn, Garden Vegetable and Beef Dinner, Chicken…Itty-bitty…Noodle…Dinner…Seriously? Who comes up with the names for these things?' Rey sneezed. 'You're right, they do sound scary. But your mum picked them out, and you know she would never try to poison you.' He paused thoughtfully. 'Unless of course she was replaced by a Zygon or something. But don't worry – I'd be able to tell, and I can assure you that Mummy has definitely not been replaced by a Zygon. Just forget I brought it up. So, how about applesauce?'

Leo began chirruping excitedly, waving his chubby arms and bouncing in his seat.

The Doctor shook his head. 'Leo, you can't have a prosciutto with buffalo mozzarella and just a hint of pesto aioli sandwich.' Leo grunted. 'Yes, I know it sounds delicious, but you're not old enough to eat food like that yet. Where did you even hear about it, anyway?'

Rey looked at her brother, who was starting to turn red with displeasure. She clucked at him soothingly.

'Rey! Stop calling me Not-Mum. You know very well I'm your dad. Honestly, I expected better from my own children.' She frowned at him and chirped. 'No, I'm _not_ your Space Dad. You've picked up some bad habits from you mother.' He pulled out the applesauce, offering a spoonful to Leo, who scrunched up his face and turned his head away. Rey, seeing her brother was upset, began to whimper. The Doctor looked back and forth between his children. It was only a matter of time before they both began howling, and he didn't want to face Clara's displeasure should she come back to heartbroken hybrids. He closed his eyes and cleared his mind – not an easy feat, considering everything that was going on in his mind all the time – and opened himself to the Force, using it to surround the spoon and lift it into the air. The kitchen went completely silent, and he opened his eyes to see Rey and Leo staring in awe at the spoon, which was rotating slowly in the air above his palm. He grinned. 'Still got it.'

He began floating the spoon around the kitchen, making it dance and do loops while the twins shrieked with joy. Their enthusiasm was infectious, and he couldn't help laughing with them. His laughter choked off in a surprised grunt when he felt the spoon tug out of his grip to go flying across the room, bouncing off the walls and the cabinets. His gaze snapped to the twins, and he caught a look of fierce concentration on Rey's face as she tracked the movement of the spoon.

'Rey! You can use the Force!' She gurgled an affirmative, and he had to duck as the spoon went flying over his head and careened out the door into the corridor. 'Uh, better let me get that.' He left the hybrids in their highchairs and ran after the spoon. It made it all the way to the console room before he caught up with it. Rey's skills were impressive. It took an embarrassingly long time for him to regain control of the spoon, but he finally managed to wrest it from his daughter's untrained grip. He turned, prepared to returned to the kitchen in triumph, only to be met with the twins, floating into the console room, surrounded by the jars of baby food.

He blinked. 'Well, this was unexpected.'

As near as he could tell, Rey was levitating Leo, Leo was levitating Rey, and they were each levitating roughly half of the baby food apiece. They were giggling like crazy, bobbing through the air, the jars of baby food slowly orbiting like tiny, brightly-coloured moons around them. He grinned, wide and toothy. 'Leo! You're Force-sensitive too!' Leo gave him a look that said _well, obviously_. 'None of your cheek, young man. I'm proud of you, and you know it. Your mum will be proud, too.' He considered them a moment. 'And with that in mind, we should probably go back to the kitchen and finish lunch before she gets back.' Rey took advantage of his distraction to take control of the spoon again. He rolled his eyes, reaching with the Force to take back the spoon, but it danced out of his grasp. Behind him, Rey giggled. 'Rey. You need to give me back the spoon now.' Leo's giggles mixed with his sister's. The Doctor took another swipe at it. 'Seriously. Give me the spoon.' It zoomed toward him, circling his head, always just a _little_ too fast for him to grab it. 'Rey.' _Swish._ _'Rey.' Swish._ 'Rey-' _Splat._ The spoon, remarkably still full of applesauce, beaned him on the nose. He wasn't sure if it was an accident or not, but based on the hysterical reaction of his offspring, he was willing to bet _not._

He attempted to wipe applesauce off his nose, but merely only succeeded in smearing it all over his face. The twins shrieked in delight. 'Yes, yes. Funny. Yes, very funny. Dad's wearing food. Hilarious. Okay, really-' he didn't get any farther. A large glob a baby food hit him in the face. Slowly, he licked his lips. 'Chicken itty-bitty noodle dinner. Yeah, I'd rather have the prosciutto and buffalo mozzarella with a hint of pesto aioli too.' His eyes widened. 'Wait a minute, how did you open that? You shouldn't have that kind of coordination yet.' His only answer was another itty-bitty noodle missile. 'Okay, obviously not important right now. But you're going to regret this. I'm the Doctor. I'm over four billion years old. I'm from the planet Gallifrey in the constellation of Kasterborous. I am Oncoming Storm, the Bringer of Darkness, and most importantly-' he stretched out his hand, and a jar flew across the console room. 'I am your father!' He glanced at the label of his prize. 'Pear zucchini corn? Blegh. Pears are disgusting. They're too squishy. But they're perfect for ammunition!' He twisted the lid off and hurled the contents at the twins, spattering them equally. The shock of their father assaulting them with baby food broke their concentration, and they plummeted to the floor. Just before they splatted all over the console room floor – Clara would never forgive him if he was responsible for the death or regeneration of their children, especially after he'd assured her repeatedly that the three of them would be fine – he caught them with the Force and lowered them gently the final inch to the ground.

If he'd hoped that would signal the end of the food fight, he was sadly mistaken. It took them roughly 1.2 seconds to process their near-regeneration experience before they launched a fresh volley of baby food at their father. The battle raged around the console room, baby food flying dizzily through the air until the room looked like it had been attacked by a slime frog.

Between the three of them they were evenly matched. That is, until Leo got a distant look on his face. The Doctor barely had time to wonder what he was up to before the TARDIS doors opened and a small flock of mixed birds flew in. While the Doctor and Rey stared in shock, Leo released a surprisingly evil laugh and supplied the birds with ammunition before sending them on the offensive. The Doctor dove under the console for cover. Rey let out an angry squeal, and a _second_ flock flew in, led by an owl with a truly impressive set of eyebrows.

'How did you even get the door open?!' the twins ignored him, too busy giving instructions to their avian squadrons. As he was repeatedly dive-bombed by baby food equipped birds, he realized that he needed his own reinforcements. Concentrating, he sent out his own call through the Force and turned to watch the entrance of his feathered allies.

A single, molting albatross limped through the door.

'Seriously?'

The battle raged all around the room, the twins' screeches mixing with the birds' calls and the Doctor's exclamations. Eventually he caught Rey and Leo, tucking them under either arm and collapsing with them on the floor under the console. 'Okay, let's just rest a minute.' He leaned back, shifting the twins to his chest. 'Take a breather.' Rey yawned, and Leo blinked slowly. 'Just for a minute.' The Doctor's eyes drifted shut. 'Then we need to get this cleaned up before your mother gets back…'

The console room was quite, save for the soft hum of the TARDIS, the faint rustling of feathers, and the snores of the hybrid twins and their father.

* * *

 **Surprise! I wanted to actually write out the food fight, because I was pretty sure Twelve left a lot out. Man, it takes a lot longer to write these things when I don't have a deadline...**

 **I googled baby food flavours. They're all real.**


	6. Space Love

**Clara and the Doctor attend a wedding, and it gives the Doctor ideas.**

 _ **Day Six - [March 26]: 'hearts crossed and hope to die', fire, shaking.**_

* * *

'It was a lovely ceremony,' Clara said as she hopped off a large rock. They were walking back to the TARDIS after attending a wedding on Kalesh VI. As was tradition, the two Soul Companions threw themselves into the Fire Stream and emerged from the flames as a single Binary Soul. The Doctor had cried, though he glared Clara when she cheekily offered him a handkerchief, snatching it from her hand with a muttered _shut up_.

The Doctor grunted noncommittally. He was still pensive, eyebrows broodier than usual, like an owl with indigestion. Frowning at the volcano that housed the spring of the Fire Stream he asked, 'So, would you ever want to do that?'

Her mouth quirked. 'What, throw myself into a river of fire? No thanks, I think I'll pass.' The very idea gave Clara uncomfortable flashbacks to lava and ground shaking and burning keys and the guilt of deliberate betrayal. It might have been a dream state, but it was still her choice, and she would never forget the look on the Doctor's face after she threw the last key.

He rolled his eyes. 'No, not _that_. The, y'know,' he shrugged, elaborately casual, 'other thing.' He stuffed his hands into his pockets as he walked.

'What other thing?' Clara asked, confused. Often it was like she could read the Doctor's mind, but there were still times – like now – when she was reminded forcefully that he was an alien, and it was all but impossible to tell what he was thinking.

He let out a frustrated huff. 'The _other_ thing. We could do that, if you want….'

She blinked, not sure she was following. 'What, get married?' she asked slowly. He nodded. 'Like space married?' She laughed. 'You want to have a space wedding in a space chapel and go on a space honeymoon?'

He stopped walking and looked at her. His expression was filled with annoyance, but there was an edge of…something else. 'It's not called that, but…yeah.'

She stared at him. 'Really? You'd really want to do that with me?' Her voice wavered uncertainly, and she wanted to kick herself. She was just so surprised. She loved the Doctor completely, and she knew that he loved her, but she never imagined their relationship would lead to this.

He must have heard her insecurity, because he took a step closer. 'Hearts crossed and hope to die,' he said, making little Xs over both his hearts before taking her hands.

She laughed, a little wildly, but there was joy in it, too. 'That might mean more if you didn't make a habit of dying, but…yeah.' She freed one of her hands so that she could cup his jaw, marveling as she always did how very _small_ her hand looked against his face. He closed his eyes briefly at the touch, but opened them again to watch her intently. 'I would like to do that. With you.'

He smiled widely, the expression sweeter than she was used to seeing on him. He reached up to cover her hand with his own. Leaning down, he kissed her, his hand sliding down the length of her arm to embrace her firmly, tilting her back ever so slightly as they kissed.

When they pulled apart, she grinned and bopped his nose. 'Race you back to the TARDIS. The sooner we get space married the sooner we can have space kids.'

His eyebrows glared at her. 'Still not called that.'

She started backing away. 'And the sooner we have space kids the sooner you'll be a-'

'Don't say it. Don't you dare-'

' _Space dad!'_ She cackled, turning and running for the TARDIS.

'Clara!' He chased after her, knees bent and arms flapping. 'Clara, my Clara, you're not getting away with that!'

'You'll have to catch me first, space dad! And I'm still a couple of billion years younger than you!'

'But I'm spry for my age!'

She cast a glance over her shoulder. He looked like a penguin, but a surprisingly _fast_ penguin. Despite the waddle he called a run, he was gaining on her. She couldn't snap the TARDIS doors open and run at the same time, so he caught her against the doors, bracing his hands on either side of her. She turned, leaning back against the police box as she grinned up at him unrepentantly.

He grinned down at her, that wide toothy grin she loved. 'Thought you could get away, did you?'

She shook her head, reaching up to link her arms behind his neck. 'Nope. I'm not going anywhere, daft old man.'

* * *

 **I'm starting to embarrass myself with the amount of romantic drivel I'm stuffing into these things. They're probably getting more and more OOC too, but I can't bring myself to care anymore. I'm drunk on Whouffaldi week.**

 **One more day to go!**


	7. Actually Space Married

**The Doctor and Clara are married in a quiet, simple ceremony.**

 **And if you believe that, I'd like to sell you tickets for a ride on this lovely space train.**

 _ **Day Seven - [March 27]: 'i do', running, lips.**_

* * *

In retrospect, she really should have seen it coming.

It should have been obvious.

When the Doctor told her he'd found the perfect place for them to get married, she should have known something was going to wrong. The more innocent their trip, the more things were guaranteed to go horribly sideways. It was what always happened. But he was so happy and excited, and she couldn't help but get caught up in his enthusiasm.

Clara wore a TARDIS blue dress for the occasion, with a wide skirt that stopped just at her knee. She also wore ankle boots with a sturdy heel, because when doing _anything_ with the Doctor, it was best to have shoes in which you could run.

He had the good sense to wear his doctory red velvet coat instead of a hoodie, t-shirts, and plaid trousers. While Clara had a weakness for his rock star look, it wasn't exactly wedding appropriate. Surprisingly, he'd made the decision himself, without her saying anything. He told her he'd once married River in a battlefield ceremony when time was unraveling and he was in a ship disguised as himself to prevent her from killing him. Clara was still trying to process that when he explained that he wanted to do things properly this time.

However, the Doctor's idea of what constituted _doing things properly_ differed from most of the sentient universe.

Everything started normally enough. They stood before the official, holding hands and listening to the ceremony. It was just them – they knew so many people from so many times that if they started inviting guests there wouldn't be a space large enough to contain them all, and would probably instigate several paradoxes and at least three wars. About halfway through, when they were starting to exchange vows, Clara noticed that the official was starting to spasm oddly. She brushed it off at first – maybe he had some kind of tic, or maybe it was some kind of species thing. When his entire body convulsed and several tentacle-like appendages burst from his back and attempted to capture them, she realized that they had a serious problem.

Still holding hands, they turned and ran for the TARDIS, the creature right behind them.

'Doctor, what is that thing?' Clara demanded as she glanced over her shoulder, ducking to avoid the tentacle that came flying at her head.

'It's a Rahkarian Lurker. They like to disguise themselves as other species to lure in prey.' He frowned. 'That explains all the odd reviews. They sounded exactly the same. He probably wrote them himself to bring in customers.'

She stared at him, the shock almost enough to make her pause. Almost. She'd been doing this long enough to know that you _never_ pause when running for your life from the scary monster that wants to eat you. 'Doctor, did you _space google_ people to perform our wedding?'

His eyebrows twitched guiltily. 'There's no such thing as space google, Clara,' he yelled, pulling her down a corridor.

'Don't try to avoid the question, Doctor!'

'I may have done some research in the TARDIS. How else was I supposed to find someone?'

Fair point. But since the official he'd chosen was currently trying to eat them, she wasn't impressed with his researching skills. 'You just picked the first one that came up, didn't you?'

'You can't prove that. I cleared my browser history.'

'I could just ask the TARDIS. She'd tell me.'

They ducked around another corner and ran into a dead end. The Doctor knocked his head against the wall. 'Sometimes I miss the days when you two didn't get along.'

The Lurker cleared its throat behind them. 'You know, maybe marriage isn't the best option for you at this time. I also do couples counseling. You sound like you have some deep-seated conflicts that need to be resolved.'

They turned, Doctor glaring at it. 'What do you know? You're not even a real wedding official.'

The Lurker rubbed two tentacles together sheepishly; the rest shot forward and wrapped around Clara and the Doctor. 'I am, actually. Licensed and everything. But there's no law that says I can't eat the wedding party after the ceremony.'

Clara pounded on the tentacle wrapped around her waist. 'Maybe not, but it's in really poor taste.'

'Oh, I agree. And I really hated to interrupt the ceremony, but it's been a while since I've eaten, and, well, I got impatient. I'm rather peckish; you understand.' It spread its free tentacles in a _what can you do_ gesture.

The Doctor crossed his arms, hostility radiating from his eyebrows. 'Well I for one am extremely dissatisfied. We came here expecting a wedding, and find out you're planning on having us for dinner instead. The least you can do is finish marrying us.'

The Lurker cocked its body, blinking its single eye thoughtfully. 'I suppose that's a reasonable request. Very well, where were we?'

Clara could tell the Doctor was up to something, so she offered helpfully, 'We'd just finished the vows.'

'Oh, of course. Well then, do you, Clara Oswald, take the Doctor to be your husband, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, in regeneration, and in all of time and space?'

Clara smiled at the Doctor. 'I do.'

'And do you, Doctor, take Clara Oswald to be your wife, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, in regeneration, and in all of time and space?'

The Doctor smiled back. 'I do.'

The Lurker brought them closer together. 'Now kiss.'

They obeyed. The Doctor whispered against her lips, 'Can you get your shoe off?'

'Yeah…?'

'Give it to me, quick!'

'So romantic,' sighed the Lurker, oblivious to their conversation. 'I'm just sorry you'll miss the honeymoon.' It began pulling them back toward its mouth.

Fortunately, her arms were free, and she could slip off the boot easily. She handed it to the Doctor, who waited until they were right next to the Lurker's body to drive the heel into its eye. It squealed horribly in outraged pain, dropping them to draw all its tentacles protectively around its injured eye.

The doctor grabbed Clara's hand. 'Come on, I'm pretty sure the TARDIS is this way!'

She hopped behind him. 'Doctor wait! Let me get my other shoe off so I can run.'

'No time!' He turned and scooped her up in his arms before taking off down the corridor. 'I know what went wrong – I turned right when I should have turned left.' He corrected the mistake, and there was the police box. Behind them, the Lurker was screaming and pulling itself blindly along the hall. 'Quick Clara – open the door!'

She snapped her fingers obligingly, and the TARDIS door opened. The Doctor launched them through, kicking the door shut behind them. He didn't stop until they reached the console, holding Clara while she worked the levers to get them out of there. When she heard the reassuring wheeze of the TARDIS dematerializing, she relaxed against the Doctor's chest. 'Well. I know carrying the bride over the threshold is traditional, but this is ridiculous.'

He smirked down at her. 'It's us, Clara. Did you really expect anything different?'

She made a show of considering it. 'No, I can't say that I did.' She shifted slightly, and the Doctor's arms tightened around her. 'You can put me down now, you know.'

'I don't know. I'm comfortable. Although…' He climbed to the second story and sat in his chair, settling Clara on his lap. 'That's better. Hello, Mrs. Disco.'

'Oh no. I refuse to take the name Disco.'

'Mrs. Funkenstein?'

'Seriously? What are you, twelve?'

'Well actually-'

'No.'

'Mrs. Smith?'

'Better. Kind of boring, though.'

'Hey! I've used John Smith as an alias for _years_.'

'Doesn't make it not-boring. How about Oswald-Smith?'

'Oswald-Smith.' He rolled it around, testing the sounds. 'Clara Oswald-Smith. The Doctor and Clara Oswald-Smith.' He grinned. 'I like it. Hello, Mrs. Oswald-Smith.'

'Hello, Mr. Oswald-Smith.' She tugged her space husband forward by his jacket, and he obligingly bent his head, kissing his space wife deeply.

There would be more adventures, more monsters trying to eat them, more running, and eventually a beautiful pair of Hybrid twins that they would name Rey and Leo, but for now, the only adventure that mattered was each other.

* * *

 **So that's it, the last prompt for Whouffaldi Week! I can't believe I survived. Or did I? I could have expired without realizing it, and will spend eternity writing Whouffaldi fluff...**

 **I feel like doing a wedding is a pretty obvious way to go, but I hope I made it interesting anyway. Because honesty, if they did get married, something like this would absolutely happen.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


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